Unbruised but Broken and Gone

I woke to find my lover gone.  Not only was he gone, but he’d bagged up everything I owned and thrown it off the 3rd-floor balcony to the courtyard below.  Well, THAT’S real mature.  At least I didn’t wake up to the blinding white-hot pain of a knife piercing me through the heart like last time.  I found a note on the door that said, “I’m not putting up with your antics anymore!  This is the last straw!”  What did he mean by that?  It’s not my fault I have to hunt at night to satisfy the Moon and am understandably exhausted during the day.  Although he had no idea what I did at night or why, and therefore no understanding of my inability to move during the day.  He probably thought I was on drugs or something.  But…why didn’t he ask me?  If he did, what could I say?  Ah, well.  To each his own.

I wondered what it was that set him off so drastically.  I mean, I’d done nothing but attempt to accommodate his drastic mood swings, his constant 180-degree turns from loving me to loving his other woman.  Truth be told, I needed that kind of sex as much as he did.  And I didn’t want to have to deal with a relationship and all the sappy clingy needy crap that went along with it.  I had a fleeting thought that maybe, just maybe, he had the same kind of thing to deal with that I did.  Then quickly dismissed the thought.  I mean, how could this same thing happen to TWO people who just happened to find each other when they were human and couldn’t reveal their nonhuman forms to the other because they didn’t know….nah!  There’s no way!

Oh, well, I suppose he’ll come around again when he’s so hard up he’s about to burst.  I’m suddenly reminded of the Damn Yankees song, “Dirty Dog.”  How was that particular part?  Oh, yeah: “Get back, dirty dog!  You don’t know right from wrong.  I’m not one of your bitches!  Get back, you dirty dog!  You’ve been messing where you don’t belong.  Stop sniffing ’round my britches!”  Of course, I’m the dog now…but that didn’t matter.

That led me to think of another song by that band, “Don’t Tread On Me.”  What’s the line in there that’s just perfect?  Oh, yeah: “Don’t you dare!  Don’t you tread on me!  Don’t you tread on me.  Don’t you dare forget your history!  Don’t you tread on me!”

Don’t Tread On Me

Men.  You can’t live with them and you can’t….well….

And then I remembered that I wasn’t human anymore.  I am now a wolf.  The items on the ground were the items from when I was human, and he’d thrown them out because it hurt him too much to have them around when he thought I was dead.  How do I convince him I’m still alive, only in animal form?  Suddenly “Dirty Dog” had a whole new meaning….

Sanity responding? What? Well, that would assume I have any sanity left to answer..

Full Moon Hunt

I run through the darkness, my eyes bright with fire
My legs race in time to my feral desire
To claim a new victim, to feel flesh in my teeth
And find temporary but urgent release

From this cursed existence, I’ve been doomed to relive
Each night the Moon shines, my lifeblood to give
I swear, I’d return this immortal curse
If by in so doing I’d not become worse

She  tricked me when She lured me to be Her slave
Never told me I’d be eternally depraved
By knowingly accepting Her detour from death,
I indentured my soul until my last breath

My heart still races when I catch my prey
Blood covers my jowls as my thirst is stayed
I carry the carcass to Her sacrifice site
One more day of survival in my eternal night – Samantha Night

Bruised But Not Broken

So what does it say about me that I’ve come to thoroughly enjoy the animal (read rough) side of sex that I wouldn’t have even considered before?  Well, the fact that I now AM an animal and was a human before has nothing to do with it, I’m sure.  Ok, fine, so maybe it does.  But when I was growing up, as a human, I got my ass kicked all the time by the people who were supposedly raising me, by the bullies at school, and by the people I sought out to fight because they were picking on people I loved.  Ok, so they got their asses kicked, too, but for the most part, all I  knew growing up was busted lips, black eyes, cuts and bruises on damned near every part of my body.  When I reached 18, or a bit before, actually, I left that house and vowed never in holy hell would I ever let that happen to me again.

Fast forward a couple decades and enter one of the hottest men I’ve ever known in my life.  Unavailable emotionally but with sex appeal in spades.  I didn’t want to be available emotionally, either, so the strictly physical relationship suited me just fine.  I quickly realized this man enjoyed things that I’ve been desiring for so long…and it’s hard to explain.  Regular sex had become extremely boring, and at the first hint of the rough stuff, I was totally hooked.  Like a line in the song “Pain” by Three Days Grace, “I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all.”  Now, in animal form, I find that I have the same desire. Not pain for the sake of pain; it’s pain for the absolute intensity and heightened sexual arousal it brings.  And that’s something I would never have known had I not experienced it as a human first.  As my now-furry body prowls the woods in search of sacrificial offerings to the Moon, I occasionally get sidetracked by the musky scent of animal sexuality and go partake.  Teeth ripping into my neck as the guttural sounds of feral need pierce the night…

Now, if I’m with a mate and there’s no pain involved, I’m bored and quickly move on.   The last time I was with this emotionally unavailable-yet-sexy-as-all-hell male, he gave me a sign that the emotionally unavailable wall may be cracking.  May.  Then the Moon turned me into a literal animal.  I can’t win….